


Sin of the Father

by Panic_CelestialInk



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Gen, Illnesses, Near Death Experiences, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-08
Updated: 2016-11-08
Packaged: 2018-08-29 21:18:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8505760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Panic_CelestialInk/pseuds/Panic_CelestialInk
Summary: Breathing hurt. Everything hurt. He couldn’t stop shivering, and his teeth clattered together. . .





	

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this isn't the promised longer Greelingfan. This is a story I've had on my computer for a while, and--after my Mom read it--she insisted I post it. So, enjoy.

He whimpered as he sucked in another small breath. Breathing _hurt_. Everything hurt. He couldn’t stop shivering, and his teeth clattered together. Yet, he was soaked in sweat.  His mind was thick, sluggish. He’d stopped being able to understand what the people around him were saying. Their voices were coming from far away.

 

“  . . . pneumonia . . .”

 

“. . . high fever . . . “

 

“Do . . . alkahestry . . . “

 

“  . . . nothing . . . “

 

“ . . .  hold on “

 

It was too much. Too much of an effort. He felt himself falling down into blackness.

 

                                                                                                                              *******

 

It was a space defined by absence. There was no ceiling, no floor, only endless white as far as the eye could see in all directions. Only a few things broke the monotony. The one was an imposing grey door, covered with strange markings—markings that only a skilled alchemist or alkahestrist would understand. Another was a strange vortex, filled with swirling golden light. From its center came the sounds of gentle laughter and enticing music. The final thing wasn’t a thing at all. It was a child, no more than six years old, sprawled out between the vortex and the door. He had long, dark hair tied into a neat warrior’s tail, and was wearing loose white trousers, black slippers, and a purple, Xingese tunic.

 

After a few moments, the child groaned and rolled onto his side. He blinked a few times, and struggled up to his hands and knees. It took him only a few more moments to stand up. He looked about him, fiddling nervously with the ends of his tunic as he did. He shuddered when he saw the doors, and stepped away from them. But, his expression brightened when he saw the golden vortex. He took a hesitant step towards it, and a peaceful expression flitted across his face. He glanced around, and then started walking towards the vortex. The boy was so entranced by the play of golden light; he never noticed the other figure appear.

 

It was a tall, muscular man with spiky, dark hair and wine-coloured eyes. He wore a sleeveless vest with white fur on the collar, leather straps on both his wrists, as well as tight, leather pants. On his left hand there was a red ouroboros tattoo. The man frowned, and looked around. When he spotted the child, his eyes widened, and he ran forward, grabbing the boy’s hand.

 

“Woah! Hold on a second, Squirt! You—”

 

The boy whirled around, and stomped hard on the man’s foot, making the man swear and loosen his grip.  The boy yanked his arm free and sprinted towards the vortex, and the man raced after him, his long legs easy closing the distance between them.

 

He grabbed the boy around the waist and jerked him away from the vortex. The boy struggled, lashing out with feet and fists, trying to hit one of the man’s vulnerable parts: groin, nose, teeth, solar plexus. The man swore again as he tried to keep hold of the squirming boy.

 

“Stop struggling, Squirt! I’m trying to save your—“ the boy sank his teeth into the man’s finger.

 

“Fuck this”.  The man grabbed the boy’s ankle, and swung him until the boy was dangling upside-down from the man’s grasp.

 

The boy glared at him. “Let me go! You’re being mean!”

 

“Mean? _Mean?_ Mean would be letting you run into that vortex and be killed faster than you can say ‘oops’.”

 

The boy stared at him. “Killed?”

 

“Yes, killed. As in dead. Kicked the bucket. Six feet under. Sleeping with the fishes. Pushing up daisies. Checked out early. Pick your favourite euphemism.”

 

The boy looked at the man, then past him, to the vortex. The boy’s eyes filled with tears, and he started to sob. The man’s eyes widened.

 

“No, no, no no! Cut the waterworks, Squirt!  Did I say you were dead? No! You go into the gold whirlpool of doom, and you dead. Here you’re sort of dead. In between dead.” The boy cried louder. “Squirt, trust me, you’re not dead. Crap, I’m no good at this. Look, Squirt, just stop crying . . . please?”

 

The boy sniffed, and wiped his nose on his sleeve. “I’m not dead?”

 

“No . . . you’re in between.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“Look, Squirt, I’m going to put you down now, okay. But, don’t go running off, all right?”

 

“I promise. And people from Xing always keep their promises.”

 

The man stared at him for a moment. “ . . . Okay.”

 

He gripped the boy’s arm, and in a smooth motion, set him, right-side up, on the ground. The boy looked around, and then his eyes settled on the grey doors.

 

“What are those?” he asked.

 

“Those? They’re your way home, Squirt.”

 

“The way home?”

 

“Yep.”

 

He gulped, and his knees started to shake. He wrapped his arms around his chest, and tears started to leak out of the corners of his eyes.

 

The man groaned. “What’s the matter now?”

 

“The door . . . it’s scary. I don’t want to go through it.”

 

“Tough.” The man jerked his thumb at the doors. “That’s the only way back.”

 

“Then, I won’t go back.”

 

“What you gonna do? Stay here and die? That’s pretty stupid, if you ask me, but if it’s what you want. . .”

 

“I don’t want that! But, I can’t go through the doors. They’re too scary.”

 

“Squirt, that’s the only way back.”

 

“I know.”

 

The boy sat on the floor, and hugged his knees. The man sighed, and sat down beside him, running his hands through his own hair. He let one leg remain stretched out, and pulled his other knee towards his chest so he could throw his one arm over it.  There was a long silence, and then, in a small voice, the boy said.

 

“I want my Mom.”

 

The man slapped his thigh. “That’s it! So, what else do you want?”

 

“What?”

 

“What else do you want? You gotta have friends, family . . . maybe there are toys, books, games, food  . . . come on, Squirt, work with me.”

 

“I just want my parents.”

 

“So, tell me about them.”

 

“Who?”

 

“Your parents. What are they like?”

 

“My mom’s awesome!” the boy sniffed and wiped his eyes. “She’s the best fighter in all of Xing! She can beat up ten, no, _eleven_ men, even without her metal arm. Dad says she’s saved his life more times than he can count. And she gives the best cuddles.”

 

“And your dad?”

 

“My dad’s amazing too! He’s got the most important job in all of Xing, but he still makes time to sneak out of the palace with me so we can go fishing, or play in the mud. Even though it gets him in trouble with the other people sometimes. Dad says he’d rather play with me than be Emperor.”

 

The man stared at him. “Hold on, Squirt. What’s your dad’s name?”

 

The boy straightened up, and puffed out his chest.  “My dad is Emperor Ling Yao the first, the Emperor of Xing.”

 

The man thrust his fist into the air. “All right! The brat actually did it! I knew he was greedy enough to do it. So, let me guess . . . your mom’s name is Lan Fan, right?”

 

“ _Empress_ Lan Fan.”

 

“I knew that stud would get there, eventually. Damnit, I should have shown him a thing or two so he could really have impressed Toots on their wedding night.”

 

“You knew my dad and mom?”

 

“Yeah. Your dad and I got really close. Your mom wasn’t too fond of me, though. She wanted to kick my teeth in when we first met.” For some reason, the man was grinning wildly.

 

Then, the man frowned at him. “Hang on a sec, if Ling and Lan Fan are your parents, why the hell are you scared of going back?”

 

“’cause it’s scary.”

 

The man looked at the doors, and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah . . . can’t fault that logic.  But, let me tell you something, Squirt. Your parents are some of the bravest and strongest people I know. And stubborn, too, I won’t lie to you. So, all of that bravery has got to be somewhere inside you.”

 

He reached over and prodded the boy’s chest, just above his heart.

 

“You—you think so?”

 

“I don’t think, Squirt. I _know_. So, get your shit together and get your ass back through the doors. After all, you gotta go back to drive your parents crazy, am I right?”

 

The boy giggled. “My Uncle Ed already does that. But Mom says Dad starts it every time.”

 

The man nodded. “If your Uncle is Edward Elric, then yes, your dad loves winding Ed up.”

 

“It’s still funny, though.”

 

The man chuckled. “You got that right.”

 

The boy took a deep breath and stood up. He straightened his tunic, and wiped away a few imaginary flecks of dust. The man rolled onto his knees, and then moved himself so that he was still crouching at the boy’s eye-level. 

 

“You ready?”

 

The boy nodded and fixed the doorway with an impressive glare.

 

“I’m going back . . . it doesn’t matter if it’s scary.”

 

“Good man!” The man clapped the boy on the shoulder, and the boy’s chest puffed out a little at being called a “man”.

 

The boy suddenly turned and faced the man.  He bowed, pressing his palms together in the Xingese gesture of supplication.

 

“Thank you so much for your help.”

 

“Don’t sweat it, Squirt. But, I gotta ask . . . what’s your name?”

 

The boy looked away. “I don’t like my name,” he mumbled.     

 

“Come on, Squirt, it can’t be that bad.”

 

“It’s Fu. After my Grandfather.”

 

Grief flickered across the man’s face. “That’s a good name, squirt. The old man was pretty damn brave, and a great fighter to boot. He saved my ass a couple of times.” The man chuckled a little at that. “You should be proud of that name.”

 

“I don’t mind _that_ part of my name . . . it’s my other name I don’t like.”

 

The man waited, but the boy didn’t seem to want to continue. He just stood there, scuffing his slippers against each other

“

Well?”  The man prompted  “What is it?”

 

“Greed. My name is Fu Greed Yao.”

 

The man’s eye’s widened, and then his grin grew wider. He suddenly let out a huge burst of raucous laughter.

 

“No way!” he said between gasps, “No fucking way!”

 

“Don’t laugh! It’s not funny!”

 

“Squirt, I’m not laughing at your name, I’m laughing because _my_ name’s Greed.”

 

“It is?”

 

“Yep. I’m Greed the Avaricious. I want it all: money, power, women, glory, status, wealth, sex—”

 

“What’s sex?”

 

Greed made a strangled sound and gave Fu a speculative look.  He sighed. “Nope, sorry, Squirt. You’re a bit too young for _that_ conversation.”

 

“Aww . . .”

 

“Besides, if I explain _that_ , your Mom will probably resurrect me, just so she can kill me herself.”

 

Greed reached over and ruffled Fu’s hair, making the boy squawk in protest.

 

“Do me a favour, Squirt. Can you give your parents a message from me?”

 

“Sure. What is it?”

 

Greed told him the message, and Fu’s eyes widened.

 

“I can’t say _that!”_

 

“Yes, you can. Tell them that I made you promise not to clean up my language, all right?”

 

“Okay . . .”

 

“Now, get going.”

 

Fu nodded, but suddenly lunged forward and wrapped his arms around Greed’s chest, hugging him as tightly as he could.

 

“Thank you so much, Mister Greed.”

 

“Yeah, Yeah, whatever.”

 

Greed would never admit it to anyone, but he hugged Fu back. Then he gave Fu a slight push towards the doors.

 

“Get going, Squirt.”

 

“Okay. Good-bye, Mister Greed.”

 

Fu waved to him, and Greed watched him run towards the doors. Fu didn’t even falter as the huge doors swung open and a malevolent eye glared at him. He just closed his eyes and charged forward, even as the hundreds of tentacle-like hands grabbed him and dragged him back to the world of the living. Greed stood up, and stretched, working out the kinks in his spine. He then straightened his vest, and sauntered towards the golden vortex.

 

_Cute kid . . . but if I see him again soon, I’m gonna kick his ass._

_********_

 

Ling squeezed his son’s hand and prayed to whatever forces that were listening to spare the child. The room was musty with the smell of herbs and sickness. The table beside the bed was full of various medicines, a pitcher of water, and damp towels. Fu was wrapped in a thin blanket, despite the fact that he was shivering. The only other occupant of the room was Lan Fan. She sat on Fu’s other side, taut as a drawn bow, and ready to act should her son require anything. Every few minutes she would wipe Fu’s forehead with the damp cloth. The alkahestrists had said that his fever had broken, but if he didn’t wake up soon  . . .

 

_Fu . . . Fu . . . wake up, please. I can’t lose you as well._

 

“Water.” The cry was so soft Ling thought he was imagining it.

 

But when he looked up, Fu’s eyes were open, and fixed on Ling.

 

“Water, please.”

 

Immediately, Lan Fan helped Fu sit up, and gave him a cup of water. He took a few small sips, and handed her back the cup.

 

“Thank you.”

 

“How do you feel?” Ling asked.

 

“A little sore, but not too bad. I can breathe again! And I’m not cold anymore.”

 

“That’s a good sign,” Lan Fan said.

 

“I had a funny dream though. I dreamt that I was in this place that was all white, and I couldn’t see any ceiling or floor. The only things there were a pair of grey doors with lots of squiggly writing on them.”

 

Ling went cold as he realised what his son was describing. Ling had only been through the portal once, when Ed had rescued them from Gluttony’s stomach, but he still had nightmares of the desolate whiteness.

 

“What else was there?” Ling asked, as he fought to keep his voice calm.

 

Fu frowned, and rubbed his chin as he tried to remember. “Well, there was a pretty golden light, but the man stopped me going into it.”

 

“Man?”

 

“Yep. He was nice . . . rude, and a bit mean, but nice.”

 

Ling exchanged a glance with Lan Fan. “What did the man look like?”

 

“He was really tall, and wore a funny vest with white fluff on the collar. He smiled a lot, and had pointy teeth, and he had a funny tattoo on his hand. It looked like a dragon biting its tail.”

 

 _It wasn’t possible. . . it couldn’t be_ , Ling thought as his mind spun.

 

_Nothing’s impossible._

 

“D-did he tell you his name?”

 

“He said his name was Greed and that you were friends.”

 

Fu looked expectantly at Ling, but Ling couldn’t speak. His throat was tight and his eyes were stinging.

 

“He was a friend of ours, in the end” Lan Fan said quietly.

 

“He said you didn’t like him and wanted to kick his teeth in.”

 

“I did. But, after a while, I saw he had good in him.”

 

“Oh,” Fu looked uncomfortable. “Mom, Dad, he gave me a message to tell you, but he made me _promise_ that I wouldn’t change it. Please, don’t be mad.”

 

“We won’t be. What was the message?” Lan Fan asked.

 

Fu took a deep breath:

 

 _Congratulations on becoming Emperor, you little pissant, though I just know that you’re not abusing your power properly. Honestly, what’s the good of being Emperor if you can’t do what you want? And, congrats on finally getting your shit together and making a move on Toots . . . though couldn’t you have done it a little earlier? Even without a body I could have shown you both a really_ really _good time—bet that makes you blush, hey Toots?_

 

Ling looked up, and saw that Lan Fan turning red. He gave a weak chuckle, and wiped at the wetness on his cheeks.

 

“Dad?”

 

“Don’t worry. Please, keep going . . .

 

_Anyway Toots, you better take good care of our idiot, because, Emperor or not, he still doesn’t have a goddamn clue how to take care of himself. And Ling, you’d better take care of all the things I left behind—this squirt included—or I’ll kick your ass._

 

 _Typical. It was so typical Greed._ Ling covered his face with his hands.

 

“Dad . . . I’m sorry I made you cry.”

 

“It’s not you, Fu  . . . I just miss that damn, greedy, selfless bastard.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope everyone liked the story. Let me know if anyone was out of character, or if there's anything I can improve on.


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